


Drum Sticks and Ding Dongs

by ManChildEvolution



Series: Naruto Rare Pair Bingo 2019 [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, F/F, Karin/Ino if you squint, M/M, Naruto Rare Pair Bingo 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 03:23:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19190932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManChildEvolution/pseuds/ManChildEvolution
Summary: Suigetsu has never been an avid sports fan, in fact, he's never sat through a full game of football in his life. However, he'd got to hand it to Karin for dragging him to game and accidentally leading him to the cutest goddamn percussionist in the front ensemble.





	Drum Sticks and Ding Dongs

Maybe it’s the way he cards his fingers through feathery ginger hair. Or the angelic precision of his hands as they command each hollow note from the wooden marimba panels. Definitely not the irresistible ripple of bulging muscles under the sleeves of the tightly fitted Drum Corps uniform.  _ Definitely _ , Suigetsu thinks.

 

“Huh?” His best friend and lifetime cockblock, Karin Uzumaki, looks at him through thin, pointed glasses. “Are you even watching the game, Suigetsu?” She folds her arms over her chest and knit Konoha University scarf. “I drag you all the way out here to talk to yourself?”

 

Suigetsu’s never been one for sports. Lifting on the weekends? Sure. Group running in the morning? Great. Watching other teenagers run around, squabbling for a ball? Not particularly entertaining. An afternoon at a yogurt bar, or spent splashing at the pool seemed like a better use of his time.

 

On the other hand, Karin’s eyes stayed drawn to the football field like moths to a lamp. Every game, practice, and clinic, she was there. Being a busy pre-med, she had opted out of playing herself. The night before the second to last game of the season, her date - a snarky yet sensible girl with hair as untamable as a raging sandstorm - ditched her over text.

 

A nonchalant wave of Suigetsu’s hand only makes Karin want to bite his blocky head off. “ _ Jeez,  _ it’s halftime, woman!” He shrugs his shoulders forward and sets his eyes on trying to find the red-headed percussionist again. “Nobody’s playing.”

 

“You haven’t been watching the whole ga-” Karin stops herself, gaze following Suigetsu’s. “Oh,” her voice comes as a knowing rasp, “I see.”

 

Embarrassed and personally offended, Suigetsu whirls around. “What? I’m excited to hear the band play!” His eyes roll into a pout with the rest of his face, cheeks turning a gentle shade of pink.

 

“Mm?” Karin leans in, a curtain of red hair spilling over the two of them. “I bet that’s not all you’re thinking about hearing.” She winks and flashes Suigetsu a thumbs up, pulling back to her upright position before he can swat her away.

 

Before he has the chance to say anything more, the assembled ensemble grows eerily quiet, and the low tone of a mellophone solo rings throughout the stadium. A girl with rich blond hair that cascaded out from behind her ponytail held the triumphant instrument like a mighty sword.

 

And then the cavalry answered to the call of its king.

 

Suigetsu’s ears felt as though they would melt off with the cacophony of a thousand different sounds, leaping and crashing and soaring. Among all of them, he detected the low  _ thrum _ of the marimba.

 

The red haired percussionist stood right of the fifty yard line, shoulders poised like a cat about to pounce. He summoned deep, ringing noted from the wooden panels, every now and then sending a  _ crash _ from the cymbal to blend the front ensemble with the drumline.

 

If anyone were to ask him what came to mind when he pictured a percussionist, Suigetsu would tell them he saw a disheveled person recklessly smacking sticks onto hard surfaces, bringing about sounds with no real melody or beauty. This boy was different. He held the mallets with a parental gentleness, hitting the bars with strength but not severity. His expression was serene, lost in the harmony he built with his colleagues. Not any bit knit with concentration nor exhilaration like the others.

 

“God, she’s really good isn’t she?” Karin seemed to be feeling the same emotion in reverse, eyes trained on the mellophone soloist, who marched and bellowed like a wild beast off its chain.

 

Suigetsu nods idle mindedly, twisting her words to apply to the front ensemble percussionist. The boy held two mallets in each huge hand, tapping them about the marimba faster than moths flitting to a lamp. His wrists were thick enough to crush iron, and the strong arms they connected to only sent waves of dirtier thoughts through Suigetsu’s mind.

 

Transfixed on the front enesembleist, Suigetsu nearly misses the song itself ending, only noticing when the other boy stopped playing. As quickly as they had come on, the mallet instruments were carted off, the red-haired boy with them.

 

The sounds of whistles and shouting players stirred Suigetsu from his smitten daze, and he took less than a heartbeat to spring to his feet and race down the bleacher stairs. Karin’s confused and undoubtedly annoyed calls never registering in his brain.

 

The red-haired boy, now with a bell kit strapped to his broad chest, is making his way to a reserved seat in the back, knocking into countless clarinets and flutes as he went. As the other boy paused to apologize to the rows of aggravated wind players, Suigetsu saw his chance and took it.

 

Positioning himself just in the way of the bulky mallet instrument, Suigetsu let his plan unfurl. The percussionist jerked back after realizing that someone was behind, knocking Suigetsu on his back with the bell kit.

 

A startled gasp leapt from the mouth of the percussionist, then he put both hands up to his mouth and babbled out apologies. Suigetsu could read the panic and anxiety falling like a dark shadow over the other boy, but refused to let his rising guilt bubble to the surface.

 

“Jeeze, it’s fine,” Suigetsu mutters, propping himself onto his elbows, now finally able to get a good look at the other boy. He was even taller than he seemed from the stands, looming over Suigetsu like a great beast. He had a broad, flat face, and an absolutely  _ adorable _ wide nose. The wording embroidered onto his shirt read ‘Juugo’.

 

Suigetsu glances down at the bleachers beneath him, realizing that he had been staring. “Just help me up, Juugo?”

 

Juugo gave him a puzzled look, before lifting the harness of the bell kit over his head and bending down to the smaller boy. “How’d you know my name?”

 

“It’s on your shirt.” Suigetsu supplied, cocking an eyebrow. For all of his brawn and height, Juugo wasn’t intimidating at all. He had the expression of a lost puppy, and the air of a teddy bear. “I’m Suigetsu.”

 

“Oh, right.” Juugo took one of Suigetsu’s hands in his own, the other bracing the smaller boy from the back, and lifted him up as though he were tiny and made of glass. “Sorry again, Suigetsu.” The world rolled off of his lips like clear water trickling down a stream. Like it was supposed to be there.

 

A sharp giggle sounded from Suigetsu’s mouth. “Hey, dude, relax.” He gave Juugo a gentle pat on the shoulder, nearly forgetting that he had only just met him, letting his hand linger.

 

Juugo flinched at the touch, then stood, staring at the foreign object on his shoulder.

 

“You guys sound really good, especially the front ensemble.” Suigetsu began to draw his hand away, out of fear that he would give this boy a panic attack in the worst location possible. “Do you guys um… play every game?”

 

The question knocked Juugo out of his daze, who flinched again upon realizing that Suigetsu was talking. “Oh! Yeah, thanks.” He scratched the back of his head for a moment, then stiffened and lowered his hand in fear of seeming nonchalant. “I mean… we have competitions to… we have one next Saturday at 10 am here with Iwa.”

 

Suigetsu’s face lit up at the news. He didn’t have any plans, right?  _ Nothing I can’t cancel, anyway _ . “Yes!”  _ Shit, now I sound like a stalker.  _ “I guess. I mean, I’ll probably come. You guys are really good and all.”

 

Pleasant surprise spread across Juugo’s cheeks in the form of a warm blush and a gentle smile, “Yeah, and we could-”

 

The start of his offer was cut off, as another kid with an instrument dragged Juugo back to the band’s reserved seats, and Suigetsu was pushed back into the student area of the stands.

 

Cursing his height, Suigetsu hopped up onto the seats to peer over the heads of the other kids, barely able to spot the shock of ginger hair.

 

“Hey dumbass, you’re blocking everyone’s view!”

 

_ Speaking of red hair _ .

 

Karin pulled him back by the shoulder and whirled him around, the annoyance in her eyes showing through her thick glasses. “Are you done flirting, twinkbag?” Her voice was laced with the same venom as always, though her eyes began to wander through the crowd of band kids, no doubt searching for the soloist from earlier.

 

“Yeah, yeah, jeezus.” Suigetsu rolled his eyes and pushed past his friend, heading back to their seats. “Hey, Karin,” he paused, squeezing her shoulder, “They’re playing at a competition this Saturday, if that means anything to you.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
